


Don't Come for Me

by DramamineOnTopOfMe



Series: Red Team Bingo Universe [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Friendship, Gen, Matt's Sick, Red Team Bingo 2019, Sickfic, Wade and Peter are good friends, stomach flu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 14:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20658407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramamineOnTopOfMe/pseuds/DramamineOnTopOfMe
Summary: Team Red Bingo square I-4, Sickfic.Matt's got the flu, and feels bad for calling out on the guys.





	Don't Come for Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first installment of my Red Team Bingo! I'm planning to make this a series, all in the same universe. Check out my Tumblr, DramamineOnTopOfMe for progress updates, if you'd like.  
I would very much like to point out that the subject of Matt's "sight" is a mystery to me. I admit that I haven't watched the show in a while and don't remember much when it comes to canon. Thank you to the people in the comments for updating me! Also, I did run through this again to fix some continuity pertaining to the sight.

Matt can’t believe he let this happen. He’s not supposed to be sick, Hell’s Kitchen can’t afford for him to be sick!

He’s currently laying flat on his couch, pillow shoved over his face to block out the light and a bucket next to him on the ground. He’s already called the rest of the team, told them that he wouldn’t be out tonight due to his body revolting against him. 

_ “Don’t worry about it, we’ll be fine.” Peter had said. _

_ “Yeah, the Kitchen won’t burn if you’re not there for one night.” Wade chimed in after. Then Matt could hear a few mumbles across the line, something about Peter not knowing where he was going and Wade being too much of an idiot to remember either. “This is why Matt comes with us!” Wade yelled over the line. _

_ “Guys, I can make it out if you want. I’ll figure it out.” _

_ “No!” They yelled in unison. Then Peter grunted and Matt heard the sound of something hitting concrete. _

_ “You guys okay?” _

_ “Yeah, we’re good. You rest, Matt. We’ll take care of everything tonight. Although we might stop by sometime later to check on you.” _

_ “You guys know where the key is.” Wade yelled something belligerent and Matt couldn’t help but laugh. Laughing hurt though, so he stopped soon after. And he didn’t really want them to show up, but outright denying them the option was bound to make Wade and Peter come over immediately. Hopefully they’d get busy and forget to stop by. _

Matt’s been in and out of consciousness for the last hour or so, trying not to vomit all over his couch. He hears a yell from outside the building, down near the sidewalk, and has to remind himself that it’s not his job tonight. The guys said it themselves, he should take the night off. 

That’s nearly impossible though, considering all that Matt does is work at the firm with Foggy and work with the guys at night to save the city.

Suddenly the door to his apartment opens, and he hears the heartbeats of his two partners. “Guys, you didn’t need to come for me. I’m fine.” 

“Our little devil is sick, you really think we wouldn’t be checking on you?” Wade’s voice is close to him, about ten feet behind his couch. 

He can’t tell where Peter is though, “Where’s Petey?” 

“Right here, Matty.” Peter’s fingers brush through his hair, and Matt can feel Peter’s breath fan over his face softly. 

“I missed you, Pete, haven’t seen you in a while.” He reaches a hand out to slide along Peter’s shoulder. 

“Well to be fair, you haven’t seen anyone in a while. It’s been about 20 years.” Wade snorts.

Peter sighs, “Wade-”

“Sorry, Yellow said that.” Then Wade's leaning over the couch into Matt’s space. “How’re you feeling, little devil? Stomach bug or something worse?” 

“Oh, the boxes can take over your capacities now?” Matt smirks, shrugging his shoulders minutely. Then he quickly frowns because his stomach flips. “I think it’s just a bug, and I don’t want to get you guys sick so-” He stops. He knows they can’t get sick, healing and all. Realistically, they’re perfectly fine to take care of him here. But the idea of his work partners caring for him while he’s sick doesn’t sit well in his already upset stomach. He’d rather have Foggy here, hell, even Karen would do. Just not the guys.

“Dude, if you seriously want us to leave, we will. But we’re here to help you if you'll let us.” Peter’s voice is alarmingly comforting and he’s still running his fingers through Matt’s damp hair. 

“I don’t- you guys don’t have to stay. It’s alright.” He coughs once, then gags. The bucket that he'd placed on the floor hours earlier is suddenly pressing against his chest, and he can hear Wade back up a few steps, no longer looming over him. 

“Either we’re staying to take care of you, or we’re calling your cute blonde friend to come over.” 

“Karen’s busy.” She’s been busy ever since she learned his secret. Matt's beginning to think that this is more than a break, that she doesn't want anything to do with him anymore.

“No, not her, the other one. The fluffy guy with a cute smile.” Wade offers. 

“Foggy?” Foggy’s been pretty distant too recently, but Matt knows that if he called, Foggy would come help him out. 

“Yeah! That guy! He’s adorable, do you know that? You have a really cute friend.” 

“I did know that. He let me touch his face in college, he's got fantastic cheekbones.” Matt’s brows curl as he says that, it sounds creepy coming from his mouth now. Peter snorts, lowering the bucket back to the floor.

“Have you been drinking anything? Or just laying around all day?” His fingers stop running through Matt's hair and move down his jaw slowly. 

“I can’t keep anything down, Pete. There’s no point in eating.” 

“You can eat, you just have to balance out the acid in your stomach! I’ll be back, there’s gotta be a 24/7 store around here with saltines and ginger ale.” Then in less than a second, he’s running out the front door. 

“He’s really going to go find me things, isn’t he?” He doesn’t need anything, just needs to get himself to sleep. Hopefully the sickness will be gone by tomorrow.

“We care about you man, and better him than me. I’m broke.” Peter snorts. He drags a finger down Matt’s neck before dipping into the collar of his t-shirt. “You want to take this off? Looks like you have the cold sweats.” 

He shakes his head slowly, moving too much is going to make him throw up, and he doesn’t want that. “Yeah, when are you going to let us help you out with being a broke college kid?” Peter must sense his discomfort, because he hooks the rest of his hand under the collar and rips the shirt open. 

“Never, I don’t need sugar daddies, you’re pretty broke, too, Matty. Wade’s the only one with real money to throw around. Can you lift your arms for me, or no?” Matt shakes his head once. He blinks hard and grunts. 

“Why is the rich guy always the one with voices in his head?” 

Peter slowly lifts Matt’s right arm, maneuvering it out of his sleeve. Then pulls the shirt off of his other arm. “Wade would say something about lazy authors right now, if he were here.” Peter’s hand brushes down his chest to Matt’s dress pants. “You know how he is, always insisting that there's a fourth wall for him to break." Matt feels him pause, fingers brushing over the button to Matt's slacks. "How far did you actually get today before deciding you were sick? Did you go to work?” 

“I got dressed for work then nearly threw up in the bathroom while taking a shit. So work clothes happened and that’s it.” He’s always wondered about Wade, whether the man spends his money or has it stashed somewhere for an emergency. He also wants to know what the man looks like. Matt knows that he's got scars, Wade will tell him as much, but he wants to know what Wade looks like. “Does he really look as bad as he says?” 

Peter pauses, his hands leaving Matt’s waistband. “You’ve never touched his face?” 

He shakes his head, “I’ve never touched yours either.” He can sense the moment of hesitation before Peter’s fingers unbutton Matt’s slacks, pulling the blanket off of him as well. 

“Help me get your pants off and I’ll let you see me.” Matt grunts, agreeing. Peter’s down by his feet now, gripping his ankles. 

“I’m going to tug, all you have to do is lift your hips when I say.” Then Peter taps his ankles and grips the fabric covering him. “Now.” Matt’s hand flies down for the bucket as he lifts his hips. He can feel the fabric whip off of his body. And a second later, he feels the contents of his stomach coming up his throat. 

Matt wretches into the bucket, coughing a few times. Spit and chunks of his breakfast are hanging off of his lips and he gags again, then spits a few times. 

“Give me that, man. I’ll take care of you.” Suddenly there’s a rag in front of him, touching his cheek. “Wipe your mouth and I’ll clean this up.” He grips the rag, fingers brushing against Peter’s as he pulls it closer. 

“I’m sorry, Pete.” 

“Don’t apologize, Matty. You’re sick, we said that we’re going to take care of you.” The sound of the sink running fills his apartment. “I’ll ask Wade if he’ll let you touch his face, but not tonight. It’s messed up, but he doesn’t look that bad. He makes it out to be worse than it is.”

“He says that people yell at him in disgust.” 

“That’s because of his reputation, and people are jerks.” 

“You really like him, don’t you?” 

“He’s a good guy, I trust him with my life. He means well, and even though the boxes get in the way sometimes, I know he's trying his best.” Matt nods, wiping his mouth with the rag again. “Are you feeling any better? I know that with stomach flu, if you throw up you feel better for a little while.” 

“I'm hoping it's just the stomach flu. I want to be back to work tomorrow, and yeah, a bit.” 

“You think you can keep down some crackers when Wade gets back?” He nods again. Peter’s sitting down on the floor next to him now, bucket placed nearby. Peter’s fingers scrape through his hair again. 

His door opens quietly and Matt knows it’s Wade. “Shit, he looks worse, what happened?” 

“I tried to get all of his clothes off and jostled him a bit, he threw up. You got those crackers? He thinks he can eat something.” A small chuckle leaves Matt’s chapped lips, Peter’s speaking for him, and although it’s cute, it’s also a little annoying. 

“I can talk, Pete, I’m not mute, just blind.” Peter’s fingers scratch some more, and he has to keep from moving his head in the direction of Peter’s hand. 

“I’ve got you some crackers and a two liter of ginger ale, you want to try them now?” Wade’s leaning over the couch again, he can tell. Matt nods again. “Did you shower today, if you’re feeling a little better we could maybe get you cleaned up.” 

“I don’t need a babysitter, Wade. That’s alright. Thank you for the crackers, but the both of you can leave.” Alright, he’s done with the coddling. It’s all very sweet, but he’s not a child. He’s a vigilante for Christ’s sake! 

“Mm, nope. We’re staying here. White says it’s better to keep an eye on you so you don’t die. You’re my favorite little devil, we don’t want anything happening to you.” It’s a bit condescending, but Peter’s still running his fingers through Matt’s hair and he doesn’t feel like dying for a second. Shutting his eyes, Matt sighs. “No no no, you’re not allowed to sleep yet. We need you to eat first!” Wade drops a package of saltines onto his stomach and Matt coughs. 

“Jesus, Wade. Don’t throw things at his stomach while he’s sick unless you want to clean it off the floor!” Peter swipes the package off of his stomach, hand leaving his hair. He opens his eyes at the loss of contact and lets a tiny whine escape his throat. 

Embarrassment floods his system, making him nauseous again. He can tell that they're looking at him. It feels like he's in a vice grip. “You should eat, little devil.” Wade says finally. The opened package is placed in his hand while a set of gloved hands, Wade’s, pull him up into a sitting position. “I’ll get some ginger ale, where do you keep the cups again?” 

“Second cupboard on the left.” He plays with the sleeve, waiting for Wade to return. 

Wade comes back with a glass and he sits down next to Matt. Peter stands, then moves to sit on the other side of him. “Seriously guys, I don’t need you to stay.” 

Wade scoffs, setting the glass in his hand, “Drink up, bitch. Foggy needs you big and strong for your job tomorrow.” He takes a sip just as fingers find the back of his scalp. Unconsciously, Matt’s head lulls to the side, setting down on Peter’s shoulder. 

“We’re staying, you just eat your crackers, alright Matty.” Matt takes another sip, a little awkwardly, then has a bite from a cracker.


End file.
